


Ambiguous

by orphan_account



Category: Pocket Monsters SPECIAL | Pokemon Adventures, Pokemon
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-04-25
Updated: 2013-06-14
Packaged: 2017-11-04 07:37:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/391375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's hard to figure out how to feel about someone like each other. [A collection of SpecialShipping drabbles.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. kiss

**Author's Note:**

> Ten drabbles. Part of a collection of drabbles called Boxes of Chocolates. Enjoy.

She has wanted to kiss him for a very long time, but when they walk home together through a field of wildflowers one summer's day, she is wired with adrenaline and becomes a nervous wreck and she isn't quite sure what she wants anymore.

"What's wrong, Yellow?" he asks, glancing at her. He has just stood back up from bending over to pick a couple of flowers from the earth. He looks at them placidly, touches the pale petals of a daisy with his forefinger, and then hands the bunch of them to her as almost an afterthought. She blushes and thanks him quietly, then holds them awkwardly at her side. They match her dress, which is a white sundress made of stiff cotton that puffs out at the bottom and is held up by two straps the width of a bookmark.

She smiles shyly at Red, fretfully glancing at the daisies in her hand as a distraction from what she ought to be doing, according to Blue. "Nothing's wrong," she squeaks, then mentally scolds herself for her inability to speak up. After all, something is wrong; she has a need which only he can cure…!

She realizes that her current train of thought means that she has been listening too much to tales of Blue's exploits, and blushes again.

Red doesn't question her inexplicable anxiety; after all, it is Yellow, who is always thinking something or other that is beyond his comprehension. Besides, she blushes at even the slightest brush of his hand, and so any thoughts he has of romance are pushed firmly out of mind, with respect to the younger girl's feelings.

After all, she won't dare like a boy like him, messy and overeager to battle.

He smiles faintly, because he knows as long as they remain friends and friends alone, they should last together for a very long time.

Meanwhile, Yellow blushes again as Red says casually, "You should put those in your hair," then takes the bunch of flowers and tucks them behind her ear. He is no expert, but he thinks that they look excellent and beautiful. Yellow doesn't know what to think, but blushes strongly either way.

When they finish their walk, Red hesitates, then remembers what he told himself. As long as he doesn't kiss her, they should be fine. And so, without a second thought, he waves to her and disappears.

She goes home and takes a cold shower. She is disappointed. She still desperately wants to kiss him, after all.


	2. are you there?

She puts pen to paper and then pauses, silenced by the words that swirl in her mind, half-formed. This will be the third - another unanswered letter, lost somewhere between desk and mailbox.

She wants to scold him, tell him off for all the ways he has done her wrong, but there are too many or too few to name. And she wants to remind him of the time he promised her forever - except that was something that had only happened in her dreams.

She curls inward, letting Chuchu run up her leg and perch on her knee. The pokemon's warmth is a comfort, but it hurts to know that her own pikachu must miss her love just as much. Of course, her love speaks her language and reciprocates to her affections.

If only Pika's master would do the same.

After a while of staring at the half-finished letter, she picks it up and crumples it, ripping it into tiny pieces. She's tired of this. Tired of games, tired of being ignored, tired of being nothing to her everything.

She walks to the window, her eyes not quite seeing the world beyond. How long has it been since she needed him? How long since they'd fought side by side? Maybe it didn't matter. She stayed the same, like the forest, while he moved onward. Growing, changing, shaping the world.

Maybe it doesn't matter. Maybe none of this does.

Crossing the room, she turns out the lights and locks the door behind her. If he won't answer, then she'll find him herself.


End file.
